


Bodiless

by SenTheSeventh



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1428757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenTheSeventh/pseuds/SenTheSeventh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I expect full payment for this”, Mammon say in a shaky voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bodiless

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Ohmygod I'm sorry. I just couldn't keep this plot bunny from my head... My apologies!
> 
> It just didn't seem so wrong when I was writing it... Warning for kind-of-not sex with an Arcobaleno.

Mammon is  _ fun _ . The illusionist is round and chubby, with small hands and a small, pointy mouth, and it's more than easy to kiss his palms, lick his finger and nuzzle his round cheek.

“I expect full payment for this”, Mammon say in a shaky voice.

Belphegor does not pay attention: the arcobaleno tried this a dozen times already, but he never pays anyway because  _ he is a prince, ushi ushi  _ ( _ Because I'm a king, _ his father used to say, and little Belphegor soon learned the power of these words, to be able to do anything and get away with it anyway because you had royal blood).

Mammon is sitting on Belphegor's waist, the prince lying lazily on his bed, head and shoulders leaning against the headboard. The illusionist will not strip for him (says that he is too young anyway, but he has been with the Varia far longer than Belphegor, and the blond doesn't care because he is a prince), which is no fun; though he can touch his naked hands, kiss their fingertips, lick the lines on the palm, leave small short-lived hickeys on the thin wrists. Then, tired with this game, he reports his attention to the arcobaleno's face, tracing his features with his fingers; put the illusionist on his chest to kiss his cheeks.

“I expect…” Mammon gasps, and stops to take a shaking breath.

Belphegor does not leave him time to collect his thought or finish his sentence. Hands on Mammon's cheek, he presses his thumb against the arcobaleno's closed mouth. To his surprise, thin baby-like lips open for him, soft tongue pushing against his finger. It's the first time that the illusionist allows him to touch anything else than his cheeks and his hands, so even a prince can be allowed a moment of bewilderment. Then Belphegor smiles wickedly and thrusts slowly in the illusionist's mouth, coating his thumb with slick, warm saliva. A small sound of protest escape Mammon's throat, but he doesn't get away. His hands are clenched into Belphegor's shirt, his strength surprising for such a baby-like body. His breath come in hot puffs against the blond's wet skin. Belphegor is panting too, and he is hard. He slept with Squalo once or twice before, when the swordsman was too drunk to care (and almost killed him the mornings after, especially since Belphegor liked to stay in his bed after sex and entangle himself against him despite their sticky state), but Mammon is different, too small, and Belphegor does not know what to do – does not even know if the arcobaleno can feel pleasure with this body.

“I can't”, Mammon whispers when he takes out his fingers, saliva trickling from the corner of his lips. “Not with the curse.”

Maybe he want to talk about fucking, or coming, or something else that Belphegor can't understand. He nods anyway. A hand suddenly grips his erection and he startles, eyes scanning the room in search of enemy. Nobody but him and Mammon. He grin when he understands: an illusion.

The hand began to grope him and he throw his head back against the headboard. Pictures flashes behind his closed eyelids, a slender figure laying on him which he identify with an adult, curse-free Mammon ; the hand which is opening his zipper and grabbing him is white and frail-looking as he imagined it would be. Mammon's still wearing his clothes though, and he still can't see his eyes.  _ Not fun _ , he whines inwardly, but he's beginning to lose control and Mammon as well, the illusory clothes falling easily when he grabs at them to take them off.

Mammon's eyes are beautiful.

He comes with a childish, strangled laugh, his whole body shaking with the strength of his pleasure. The illusionist joins him almost at the same time, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

Belphegor stays like that for some time, just laying in his bed with his eyes closed. Mammon is warm and small against him. It would be fun if he could get back his adult body, Belphegor thinks from some unknown place of his narcissism-driven mind.

“... I except full payment for this”, Mammon says eventually.

“The prince is sticky”, Belphegor replies lazily. “I will take a bath. Do you want to join me?”

“No. I am getting back to my apartment now.”

Mammon's tone is a little snappy, but the blond doesn't care.

“So you'll join me to sleep later”, he proclaims.

Mammon hesitates.

“I expect full payment for this”, he repeats, and leaves.


End file.
